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Thread: The Scheme Unveiled

  1. #21
    Name: Colores
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: One of Us
    Drabble: We Are Not Afraid by crazy_purple_hp_freak
    Why: I felt that this drabble was incredibly well written and would be a perfect opportunity for me to try writing something in a different voice.
    Warnings: none
    Words: 451

    If you can last here a day, then you are like the others. In that day, you will learn our work; you will know what we do. You will learn our purpose, our reason for being, our reason for fighting. You will learn what it is like to work in our office.

    If you can last here a week, then you can be accepted. We have a community of people, and we are not always so welcoming to the new people moving up. In that week, you will learn more than you’d ever want to know about fighting, about killing, about love, and about death. You will learn what it is like to be one of us, but only what it is like. You are not one of us yet.

    If you can last here a month, then you can come with us. You have proven yourself to be strong enough to make it on this journey, and you are now allowed to come with us. You will see some action; you will do more than just learn by the book. You will learn by experience. You will come out and fight with us; you will see what it is really like to be one of us.

    If you can last here a year, then you can have our respect. Even fewer make it this far in the training. Not everyone can put up with the death, with the tragedy, with what we see every day. Not everyone can stomach the scenes that we have to manage, and the tasks that we are forced to perform. Not everyone can do it. But you have. You have, and for that, you have our respect.

    When you understand what it’s like, then you are one of us. When you know what it’s like to see a comrade fall down dead beside you, then you are one of us. When you see your best friend tortured by the Dark Lord or the Death Eaters, then you are one of us. When you experience death for yourself, when you realize, recognize, accept that you are in a situation that may result in your death, then you are one of us.

    We are not afraid to fight.

    When you are willing to fight beside us to the death, when you are willing to die for our cause, then you are one of us.

    We are not afraid to die.

    When you understand death, when you have experienced it for yourself, then you are one of us.

    We are not afraid.

    And if you should die while on the job, then you are the more than one of us.

    You are the one that died for us.
    Mithril Says: Wow. 10 points to Hufflepuff

  2. #22
    Name: dragonwings
    House: Gryffindor!
    Title: Relief is Short-Lived
    Drabble you’re responding to: Relief by Cheslin
    Why? I chose this one because I like writing about Nymphadora and I've always wanted to write about her as a toddler. I also wanted to show her fierce loyalty to her friends and her cleverness (well, c'mon for a five year old.) And also how although her powers are cool, it must have gotten her into a lot of trouble when she was a kid.
    Warnings: none
    Words: 500

    “Nymmie!” A young girl with golden hair ran towards Nymphadora.

    “Nymmie?” Nymphadora giggled. “My name is Nym-pa-doo-ray. Nym-pha-do-re?” She sounded it out and giggled along with the other girl.

    “I like Nymmie. It isn’t hard like your other name.” The blonde girl said.

    “Me too. Want to go play on the swings, Ashley?” ‘Nymmie’ asked hopefully, putting down her pail and shovel.

    “Nuh uh. I can’t.”

    “Why?” Nymmie asked.

    “My mommy said no. Lookie- my leg has a boo-boo on it from the slide.” She held out the scabby scrape for Nymmie to see.

    “Cool! I got hurt too one time, on the slide. But my mommy made it all better so I didn’t get to have a scab like you. Why can’t you play with me?”

    “My mommy said that I have to move.” Ashley said sadly.

    “To where?” Nymmie felt like she had just dropped her cookie in the sand. Ashley? Leave? But she couldn’t…

    “My daddy said that we were going to Au-trail-eeya.” Ashley’s eyes watered. “I don’t wanna move to Au-trail-eeya, Nymmie!”

    Nymmie put down her shovel and climbed out of the sand box. She sat on the grass next to the swings and thought. And thought. And thought. Finally, five year old Nymphadora Tonks came up with a solution.

    “I’ll go to Au-trail-eeya for you! Watch me!” She screwed her face up and after a minute of squinting, she morphed into a copy of Ashley.

    “You can hide under the table while I go to you house. Then I’ll escape and we can runaway to… Iceland.” Nymmie said firmly. “Then your parents will be so sorry that they tried to make you move that you’ll have to stay here.”

    “Ashley, sweetheart!”

    “Hide!” Nymmie urged. Ashley toddled towards a picnic bench and hid.

    “There you are, Ashley!” A round-faced, smiling brunette picked up Nymmie and kissed her forehead. “Did you say goodbye to Nymphadora?”

    Nymmie nodded.

    “Good girl. You’ll see her again someday when you go to Hogwarts like your brother. Now let’s go get your backpack. We have a plane to catch in two hours.”

    She put Nymmie down and headed towards the cubbies. Nymmie followed eagerly after her. Ashley’s mom had chocolate biscuits in her purse! She trotted to try and keep up but tripped and fell.

    “AAHHHHOOOOWWWWWWWWW!” She wailed. All pretense of being Ashley faded away.

    “Nymphadora?” Ashley’s mother gasped. “Oh god, where’s Ashley? Wait, are you alright darling?”

    “I WANT MY MOMMY!” she wailed out even louder.

    “Oh, oh, look! See? There’s your mommy!” Andi Tonks had just Apparated at the door of the daycare. She swooped down upon Nymmie and hugged her close.

    “Show me where it hurts… There’s a good girl.” Andi soothed. Ashley ran in from the playground and ran to Nymmie.

    “I’m, I’m sorry, Ashley.” Nymmie sobbed.

    “It’s okay, Nymmie.” Ashley was crying now too. “I’d miss my mommy too much.”

    Nymmie wretched herself out of Andi’s grasp and held her friend tight.

    “I <i>will</i> see you again someday.” She whispered fiercely. “I promise.”

    5 points to Gryffindor.

  3. #23
    Name: LucillaJoanna
    House: Hufflepuff and Sparkly-poo!
    Title: Release
    Drabble you’re responding to: Alone on Christmas by Gonz
    Why? (what inspired you to respond to it, what did you like most about it, etc) The two authors (Gonz responded to MadamaMarauder) handled the second person POV with flying colors. I couldn't resist trying it myself. The glint of the drabbles pushed me on for this, my chance to write about Sirius for a change. While writing this drabble response I surprised myself, Sirius's experience was ten times more intense, if gone through in one's own thoughts and feelings.
    Warnings: none
    Words: 284

    For the first time since they threw you here to rot and fester like a sore, you do feel like a wound. You wish to bleed, to ooze, to explode—anything!—just to let out the pressure of fury and pain inside you.

    A dozen years you have been quiet, but suddenly fate pokes you, at the very core, where the injury was still throbbing and will forever throb.

    Harry, James and Lily’s son, not safe.

    Wormtail, James and Lily’s traitor, not away.

    Thoughts swirl with madness in your mind; where the madness begins and where the thoughts end was a Gordian knot you will not even venture to untie. They warm you. Those hooded fiends guarding you could not put it out.

    Harry, James and Lily’s son, needing you.

    Wormtail, James and Lily’s traitor, fearing you.

    For the first time since they threw you here to rot and fester like a sore, you burst.

    But it was an inward burst, an imploding, from the sudden return of forces you had long thought had been sucked out of you.

    Those hooded fiends snaring you could no longer hold you.

    Water swirled with madness around your body. Where the sea begins and where the madness ends was a garment you relish with bliss.

    Harry, James and Lily’s son, meeting you.

    Wormtail, James and Lily’s traitor, begging your mercy.

    For the first time since they threw you there to rot and fester like a sore, you open.

    You let all the fury and pain out.

    You let all the infection of power back in.

    You could hear your heart beating.

    And realize it was the surf thumping land untainted by those hooded fiends now far behind you.
    Nice. 5 points to Hufflepuff.

  4. #24
    Name: MrsRuebeusHagridDursley/Morgan
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Father's Anger, Daughter's Fury
    Drabble you’re responding to: StaceyLC, Shamed
    Why? Well, I was reading the drabble, and the bunny bounced. I thought it was well written, and that I had something great to work with.
    Warnings: None.
    Words: 477 *whew*

    I took Stacey's drabble and rewrote it in a different POV.

    “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, feeling my anger creep upon me. I knew she thought she was helping, but that was just ridiculous. I’ve seen things I’ve never told her, seen that these things just don’t work.

    “What do you mean, Papa.”

    Bellatrix was trying her best not to appear angry, but her eyes betrayed her.

    “That band is just common riffraff,” I explained. I tried to explain to her that it would harm our image to be seen in such lowly company.

    She argued, and then reminded me of my mark. My mark, the mark of my mistakes, of my past.

    “I saw Grindewald do it, and there are still half-bloods and filth in our world,” I spat. It won’t work. Nothing like this ever works. “This will be no different. He will fall, you will bring us shame.”

    “He will not fall,” Bella said.

    I saw something flash across her face. A look of uncertainty, like she was just repeating something she was told. Then something clicked in my mind. “Rudolphus. He’s joined too, hasn’t he?”

    Bella did not answer, but still confirmed my suspicions.

    Typical Bella. Blindly following, lacking the capability to make her own decision, basing them around others. I voiced my thoughts, and Bella blew.

    “Rudolphus and I are more concerned about the salvation of our race than you, it would seem!” “How dare you denounce our union? I will be a Lestrange, and when the Dark Lord is victorious-”

    God my daughter was dramatic. I had to interrupt. Bella had forgotten some people in her plan. “Have you not thought of your mother in this? Or your sister?” I reminded her of our ruin, of Andromeda. I thought it would get to her, and it worked.

    “Enough! I will not tolerate it!” she yelled brandishing her wand.

    Boy, what a temper. Well, I have one too. “Already they’ve changed you. Already you’re in too deep. How long have you hidden this?”

    Bellatrix laughed, rolling up her sleeve and showing her forearm. “Long enough. You will see. “He will be the greatest wizard the world will ever see. He has already gone farther than anyone, even Grindelwald, has dared to go. He will save us. And you will come crawling to me for forgiveness on that day. And I may not be willing to give it. It is you who has shamed us. I am willing to fight, to do whatever it takes to preserve the purity of our race, while you do nothing but sit back and let it be destroyed!” With that, Bella stormed out of her room. I followed and she turned again. “I wonder, Papa, what you will think of Narcissa when she marries a Death Eater, since you apparently think so little of me.”

    And then she was gone, leaving me to dwell on my thoughts alone.
    Mithril Says: Five points to Hufflepuff!

  5. #25
    Been meaning to post ny drabbkes for a while...sort of forgot. Hee.

    Name: kumydabookworm
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Living on Hope
    Drabble you’re responding to: Who Will Lift Them Up? by coppercurls
    Why? I wanted to try a new character. This seemed perfect.
    Warnings: Violence
    Word Count: 256

    She knew she shouldn't. It was wrong - it was terrible of her. This boy had probably killed people she knew, people she mourned. But he was just a boy - just as she was just a girl. Everyone lost their way in this war.

    She couldn't help but think if she had been in his place, what she would have done. If she had parents who were Death Eaters, would she be working for the Order still? She would have been wearing a Dark Mark, just as he was now. She wouldn't have even had the courage to realize her mistake as he was now.

    At least, she hoped he was. Otherwise, she was helping the enemy. She was killing her own friends, her own family. She couldn't help but believe his earnest brown eyes, though. They seemed to beg her for forgiveness just as his tongue pleaded for help.

    "Please, Susan..."

    She waved her wand, healing his newest wounds. "Blaise, be careful."

    He brushed cool, dry lips across her cheekbone. "Thank you."

    She bit her lip, wanting to grab his hand and keep him close. Here, on the right side, where he would be safe. Would he? They would kill him as soon as look at him because of the brand he wears.

    Reluctantly, she let him pass. He had seen his mistake. He was on their side, and she should help him. He was just a boy - the same age as her. He had to be telling her the truth.

    She hoped.
    Name: kumydabookworm
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Unwanted
    Drabble you’re responding to: Untitled by Loralie (Severus/Lily drabble)
    Why? I wanted to write a Severus/Lily. I liked the idea of Severus changing.
    Warnings: Prejudice
    Word Count: 231

    He watched her with her sparkling green eyes. They attracted him even now, even after he had pushed her kindnesses away. He couldn't bear it. The blood running through her veins was dirty; Lucius had told him that over and over again. His father had told him over and over again. Everyone told him.

    She was wrong.

    But how could she be? How could a girl so beautiful be unpure? How could eyes so green be...tainted? His own black eyes were undoubtedly more dirtied than her own. His crooked, yellow smile could not be better than her radiant grin.

    How could such joy be adulterated? Could the place from which she came - the womb abandoned sixteen years ago - really make her untouchable. It is the womb that gave her life. Her very life comes from a tainted woman - her very life is tainted. It must be this way.

    Severus Snape bit his lip. He could not bear it.

    He swept away, caught up in his own dark rage, ignoring the outside world and burying his hooked nose into a book where all his troubles could be escaped. She could never be his - she didn't deserve to be with him. She could never be beautiful; she could never be loved.

    Somehow, he couldn't help but feel that he was the unworthy one, no matter what anyone said about blood.

    Fifteen points to Gryffindor!

  6. #26
    Name: hpluver365
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: The Prisoners of Azkaban
    Drabble you’re responding to: Her Eyes by hansolohpfrk
    Why? The drabble was extremely moving and I saw so much potential for a response drabble.
    Warnings: It's kind of dark...
    Word Count: 322

    He never left Azkaban. He spent his life there, with the convicts of the Wizarding World. They were the only ones who interested him, the only ones who were different. They were the ones that had the will, the power, the bravery to go against a strong force such as the Ministry. This was something he had never been able to acclaim to, but then again, the force he went against was stronger than any other in the world, the force he went against, was Lord Voldemort.

    Every time the Ministry pulled their little wooden rowboat up on the rocks, he could hear the clinking of chains and shuffling of feet as another prisoner was guided up the rocks to Azkaban. He was always waiting at the front door to take the criminal to a cell. He supervised the entire facility, yet he always performed the worst job, the one no one else wanted to do. If he didn’t, he would never get to see which prisoner’s carried the Dark Mark.

    Those were the ones quickly hauled all the way to the far side of the building, where he never went, never had to see them. They brought back memories, bad memories he wanted to forget, but never could.

    There was a time when he would visit her gravestone every week, and every week, he would see the ghost of the boy with her eyes, the pale blue eyes he had loved so much. He would see this ghost, mourning before the grave of its mother, begging for her life to be brought back. It never was, and never will be.

    Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore. Watching the ghost cry and mourn for its dead mother. He stopped going to the grave, and instead of spending his life with his dead loved ones, he spent his life with those who were destined to die, unloved and afraid, the prisoners of Azkaban.

    Name: hpluver365
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Freedom
    Drabble you’re responding to: Di Vetro by SiriuslyMental
    Why? The drabble was very loosley written. It left everything up to the reader, even who the main character was. I found this interesting so I wrote more!
    Warnings: There's mention of abuse and self-harm, but nothing graphic.
    Word Count: 252
    Hands striped with blood red welts from childhood days reached over and wiped the dust off the floor length mirror. Who knows how long this mirror had gone untouched, most likely thirty-four years, since the last time he had been here.

    He shuffled backwards until he could observe his whole body in the mirror. Black eyes stared back at him, bold and clear against the pale flesh. Nothing had changed, he was still a ghost. His father’s words from thirty odd years before echoed in his head.

    Why must I be the one afflicted with this vile creature for a son?

    He balled his fists and turned from the mirror. He was facing the stove, the stove at which he had tormented himself for years on end. He looked down at his hands, a permanent reminder of those days. Ever so slowly, he walked to the stove. He picked up one of the pearl grey pieces of coal. For years it had sat on this stove, bits of his flesh stuck to it along one ridge. In one swift motion, he turned, and flung the coal at the mirror.

    Millions of miniscule pieces of glass hit the floor around him. He had done it. He had beaten his father. He had overcome the abuse that had been eating at him since the day he was born. He was free.

    A smile spread across his face as he marched out the front door, the last time he would ever visit his childhood home.
    10 points to Gryffindor

  7. #27
    Name: MrsRuebeusHagridDursley/Morgan
    House: Hufflepuff!
    Title: Burning
    Drabble you’re responding to: StaceyLC, Trapped
    Why? I really liked the style the original drabble was written in and thought that it ended in such a cliff hanger, I had to add on!
    Warnings: None.
    Words: 179

    I laid down my quill and picked up the journal. I took it outside and laid it in my secret spot. My refuge. The gap between the giant roots of our family’s large tree.

    “Incendio!” I cried, watching the flames erupt from my wand and make contact with the journal.

    Slowly, it burned, first the glossy black cover, the word journal disappearing into the flames. Then burned the first page, my name, imprinted by Madam Pomfrey, catching fire, becoming ashes. And then the only page ever to be written on. I caught sight of snippets (mainly single words) from my entry. Nightmare, storms, trapped, cemeteries, museums, statues, Harry, I wonder, I don’t like the cold or the stone, trapped.

    Then I realized. I don’t feel trapped anymore. My fears, my worries, had just been destroyed with one word, one spell. If magic could conquer them so easily, so could I. They were gone. Forever.

    Just like the journal. Turned to ashes and swept away in the wind. Flying away, far away from me, never to be thought of again.

    5 points to Hufflepuff!

    EDIT: Another one!

    Name: MrsRuebeusHagridDursley/Morgan
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Wishing to be Free
    Drabble you’re responding to: StaceyLC, Shamed
    Why? I absolutely loved the way this drabble was written and just had to add on.
    Warnings: None.
    Words: 252

    I stormed down the street, anger raging inside me. What a horrible man. Why isn’t he proud? I could have just apparated away, but I didn’t want to. Running had always made me feel better. When I ran, I was free. When I appparated, I was confined. I had to follow that one path, and right then, I didn’t want to. I wanted to choose my own path, I wanted to run. So I did.

    I ran and ran and ran, letting the wind hit my face and blow my hair back. My legs soon burned, and my side ached, but my father’s words still rang in my ears, propelling me forward.

    Finally, I was out of breath, and too tired to run any more. The street I was on was strange. All of the buildings were dark and the street deserted. I twirled around and felt the second of restriction I hated almost as much as my father.


    Rudolphus looked surprised to see me.

    “Sorry. I just had to get away. My father is a b-“

    Rudolphus interrupted me. “But you’d told the Dark Lord you’d be there. He’ll send his order for you over there. You have to go back.”

    “Can’t we tell him that I’ve moved here with you?”

    “No, because you’re not living here with me.’

    “But I want to. Can I? We’re going to be married.”

    “Oh, alright. Go tell him.”

    “Thanks Rudolphus, this is-“

    Rudolphus waved his hand impatiently. “Just go Bella.”

    And I went.

    Mithril's Edit: Another 5 points!

  8. #28
    Ron x Hermione
    Name: Ron x Hermione/Lindsey
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Set
    Drabble you’re responding to: Dill's, Ready
    Why? I thought that it was very well-written, and I've been meaning to try my hand at writing a Lily and James piece.
    Warnings: Character Death
    Words: 286

    Voldemort stepped over the body of James Potter and continued on up the stairs. He heard a soft pounding going up the steps and then a door slam.

    Lily Potter.

    He sneered a violent sneer and slowly ascended the carpeted steps. As he walked, he noticed pictures of Harry, his mother, and his now-dead father lining the walls beside his head. Was he really willing to kill a child to gain more power?

    As in an answer to his own thoughts, he threw his head back and laughed a maniacal laugh, continuing to cross the stairs at a steady pace.

    He drew out his wand and pointed it at the door Lily was behind and it blasted away. He heard a scream from within. That only made his heart jump in anticipation.

    Or, what was left of it anyway.

    He knew he was going to kill her and her child.

    “Step away,” he told the woman softly, the sneer becoming more and more pronounced as he took each step.

    She shook her head violently, closing her eyes as if she were the answer. She pulled Harry closer to her and shielded him with her arms.

    “You were warned.”

    Lily hurriedly placed Harry back in his crib so he wouldn’t be dropped.

    Avada Kedavra! a high-pitched voice screamed, and a cry of terror was issued throughout the room.

    Voldemort then pointed his wand to the child.

    ~ * ~

    The next thing he knew, he was being sucked out of his own body. He wasn’t dead, yet he wasn’t alive. His wand fell to the floor with a clatter, yet he knew that he hadn’t killed the boy.

    Only time would tell the rest of the story.
    Name: Ron x Hermione/Lindsey
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Now, Twenty Two
    Drabble you’re responding to: solemnlyswear_x's, When I was Twelve
    Why? It just spoke to me. It was very well-written for such a short drabble.
    Warnings: Character death.
    Words: 204

    Not even jokes can make me feel happy again.

    My parents have been killed, and my only friend that is left to me is myself. At this point, I don't even know how long they're going to last. People are being killed left and right; a regular genocide seems to be happening, but the Muggles don't know. Muggles are so oblivious to everything; the things that happen in our world, the Wizarding World, right next to them, doesn't catch their attention. I'm a Muggle-born, but that doesn't stop me from knowing what happens in both worlds.

    I used to tell jokes when I was child to lighten up the day, but now it's . . . just horrid to even look out the window. Everything outside seems dead; grass no longer grows in the backyard, the clouds have turned gray and no sun shines, and there is no sign of life whatsoever anywhere. Birds used to rest outside my window, and I used to note the occasional butterfly or bug as well; now, there is nothing.

    Noises in the kitchen awaken me from my peaceful daydreaming of what used to be, and a flash of green light bounces off the wall. I welcome it.
    Name: Ron x hermione/Lindsey
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Empty Thoughts and a Chocolate Kiss
    Drabble you’re responding to: mspadfoot89's, A Kiss
    Why? It was SO well written and I just had to add on. It had such an odd ship as well.
    Warnings: Kissing?
    Words: 187

    Draco picked up the chocolate kiss, rolling it between his fingers for a moment before unwrapping the foil off it and letting it fall to the ground. It wasn't his business to clean up the trash.

    "Ch-Cho, wait." His words were so hollow; so reflective of how he was. The woman turned around to look at him.

    "Can I have a real one?" he smiled into her useless tears and reached out a hand through the bar. She took the kiss out of his palm and allowed it to drop to the floor, a small smear of melted chocolate in his hands. He pulled his wrist back suddenly, and she came toward him.

    Their lips met through the bars of the prison that had held him for so long, now preventing him from being with the one he loved. They both sighed into the deep kiss, both wanting so much for both of them to be outside those metal bars.

    When they broke apart, they stared into each other's eyes for another moment, then Cho walked away, leaving poor Mr. Malfoy to wallow in his regret, again.
    Name: Ron x Hermione/Lindsey
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: No Problem
    Drabble you’re responding to: Lily_writes, Is there a problem, Professor Dumbledore?
    Why? I thought it was funny, and it made me laugh aloud.
    Warnings: None.
    Words: 76

    "Well, carry on, then."

    James and Lily looked at each other oddly. They were off the hook that easily? Something wasn't right.

    But then they remembered: he could read minds.

    As they exited the office, the two immediately burst forth with chatter to the other.

    "Did you . . ."

    "I thought about it, yes. You think that's how he knows what we did?"

    "Got to be. I mean . . . Gosh, that was odd."
    Name: Ron x Hermione / Lindsey
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Fragments into Pieces
    Drabble you’re responding to: Annie's, Broken
    Why? it was such a shocker ending. I loved the writing and the flow.
    Warnings: Slash
    Words: 213

    He knew the mirror was wrong, but he had to accept it. he turned away from the thing with a grimace, then pulled out his wand, muttering a spell to the mirror, making the mirror burst into thusands of tiny pieces. it couldn't show him that image again.

    A young man with a scar to his forehead walked into the same room as Draco, an evil look on his face.

    Draco looked at him as if he was very startled to see another figure coming into the room. He had just seen in the mirror themselves holding hands and sharing a romance together; he was too embarassed to get anything out of his mouth. He faintly tried to dust away the broken shards of glass.

    He stared at Harry as he walked out the doorway, then stopped dead. Students paced the halls of Hogwarts outside the empty and abandoned classroom, and he turned back around.

    "Wh-what are you doing here, Potter?" he asked. He didn't spit the name as he usually did. His words, for once, were filled with sadness and kindness.

    "What do you care?" Harry took a quick glance at Draco, and before he knew it, they were walking down an empty corridor, hand in hand, out to the Black Lake.
    I think I got bored.


    Mithril Says: Fifteen points to Hufflepuff, only because I put a points cap of 15 points for each person, but they were pretty awesome drabbles!

  9. #29
    I should probably be studying for my math final exam, or doing work for my MNFF classes. Oops.

    Name: kumydabookworm
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Housecleaning
    Drabble you’re responding to: Mouse by Sly Severus
    Why? I felt like writing Andromeda/Tonks. It was a good beginning she offered.
    Warnings: None
    Words: 439

    Sighing tiredly, Andromeda shoved the broom underneath creaky furniture to push out the dirt and dust to a place where she could easily gather it up and throw it away.

    She barely jumped when she saw the small gray creature nibbling at a dust bunny behind the sofa. Andromeda sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Ted was already at work at his newest job, and she wouldn’t bother him over this.

    It’s time for me to pick up my own mice. It was times like this when she missed her wand – being able to Levitate the mouse away from her would have stopped this strange hollow feeling in her stomach.

    Silently, Andromeda crouched, reaching trembling fingers out for the busy rodent. Gently and gingerly, she wrapped her fingers around the creature’s warm sides, feeling the heartbeat as a blur against her fingertips.

    The panicked squeak tugged at her heart and she swallowed nervously. “I won’t hurt you,” she whispered.

    The mouse scrabbled for purchase on the rickety, old floorboards. Andromeda pulled it up and stood, placing it in one hand and holding it firmly with the other. She winced for a moment as the claws dug into her soft skin.

    Finally, the mouse gazed at her with beady eyes and its feet stopped struggling. She sighed in relief.

    “I’m going to take you outside, okay? You can be free there with lots of food, and you won’t get in the way of my cleaning,” she murmured, feeling strangely attached to the small thing in her palm.

    Or scare me half to death, she added on mentally.

    She stared at the mouse apprehensively. What was she so afraid of, anyway? Carefully, she let go of the mouse, but it didn’t try to escape. She ran one finger over the arch of its downy back and over its thick tail. The mouse shivered slightly and she giggled.

    Opening the door, she deposited the mouse outside the door. It stood there for a moment, simply looking at her. She smiled and bent down once more to look it in its eyes.

    “Shoo,” she urged, gesturing with her hands.

    The mouse turned and scurried along the wall of the house and around the corner. Andromeda dusted her hands, business-like, on her apron and shut the door. She turned back to her broom and clenched her hands a few times, wincing at the soreness of newly chafed skin.

    Then, she looked at the nibbled upon dust bunny and smiled. I don’t need Ted for everything. She took up the broom in willing hands and began to sweep the floor with renewed gusto.
    Name: kumydabookworm
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Butterfly
    Drabble you’re responding to: Survival by Sly Severus
    Why? One of Bellatrix's worst memories mentioned struck a chord in me.
    Warnings: None
    Words: 395

    Andromeda thought no one was watching. She never did. Not when she was sneaking out to meet that Muggle boy or when she tried on Mother's jewelery during parties. Bellatrix smiled sardonically, even sadly, as she watched her oblivious sister run out of the house and onto the grounds.

    Merlin only knows what she's planning now. Andromeda was the only one of the sisters who still seemed a child. Her charming smile seemed to save her the grace of age and only leave the happiness of a young girl who knew nothing about the world around her.

    Bellatrix almost felt at times that she had to protect her older sister from the world - from their parents, Narcissa, everyone. Being a Black was not an easy task; people were quick to fault and even quicker to pretend friendship. Andromeda, beautiful heart that she had, couldn't tell the difference between truth and falsehood. She had simply never thought to look for the difference, because who would mean her harm?

    But Bellatrix saw - and knew - what Andromeda did not. She knew what would happen to that Muggle if Father ever found out about Andromeda's romance. She knew what would happen if Andromeda decided she was going to marry the boy or something silly like that.

    She would never leave the house again.

    Somehow, Bellatrix did not want that for her sister - the only child left in the solemn family. A butterfly that she was, always bright and bringing happiness, didn't deserve to be locked away from the light, from the flowers. She smiled fondly as her sister bent over a narcissus in the garden to breathe in its scent.

    Then, the Muggle boy came. Bella frowned delicately as her sister greeted him...exuberantly, to say the least. Her eyes widened as she watched her sister move toward the end of the grounds. Andromeda! Bellatrix felt something cold grow inside of her at this betrayal - her sister had chosen a Muggle over her sisters, her family.

    Still, she thought of what would happen when her parents found out about the Muggle. She knew what would happen, and Andromeda, blue eyes still blissfully clear, had no notion.

    She watched her sister go and said nothing. This is the last way I can protect her from herself. She has to leave this place before it's too late.
    Name: kumydabookworm
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Violence II
    Drabble you’re responding to: Violence by crazy_purple_hp_frk
    Why? It was powerful, and I wanted to parallel the structure of it.
    Warnings: Character Death
    Words: 344

    They come toward us - just two. The most illustrious of the enemy standing side by side ready to face our ranks. We stop at a distance, five to two, absolutely still for just a moment.

    "Crucio," Rodolphus screams and it begins.

    We are not afraid to fight. They spin, whirling spells in earth-shattering spirals all around. It is impossible to guess from where the next jet of light will fly, and yet we move forward. They snarl, faces blue behind a solid shield and yet we continue to cast spells, the reflected damage absorbed by our group without hesitation because we are weakening their power.

    To be a Death Eater is to understand power and from whence it comes. It comes from groups, from loyalty, from dedication - singleminded and to one cause. Together we will stand, and they will fall. They work alone - each wand slipping out from their bodies in an uncoordinated, dangerous blur. But we will stand together, walk together, cast spells together...and they will fall.

    We are not afraid to try. A Death Eater reaches out, out, and falls, screaming for a second before his voice ends with a snap. He tried to reach them - and he was slaughtered. Our faces sweaty behind our skull-masks, our eyes wild, we move forward. We try to stop them. They have killed too many of us in past battles, and we cannot - will not - afford the losses they cause any longer.

    We are not afraid to die. Half our numbers are gone when the blue shield shatters, leaving them bare in the merciless sun. One by one we fall as we move closer, and their voices tear from their throats in a neverending litany of death. They would killed, or be killed.

    We understand them. They understand us. So it is with a peaceful light in their eye that they die, and with a peaceful conscience that we leave their bodies cold on the muddy ground.

    We are not afraid to live.
    Might do some more later...I'll tack them on here if you haven't graded them, Mithril. If you do grade them, I'll just post again. *wanders away*

    Mithril Says: 15 points to Gryffindor!

  10. #30
    Name: no_day_but_today
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: Perfection
    Drabble you’re responding to: What Was Expected by Sly Severus
    Why? I've always wanted to write something abotu Narcissa and this just gave the perfect opportunity. It was so well written and it just made a lightbulb turn on in my head.
    Warnings: None
    Words: 492

    Narcissa sat at her dressing table and checked her make-up. It had taken the woman that her mother hired hours to make Narcissa's face look perfect. It had worked though, her skin looked unblemished and smooth, but natural. The rouge put color in her cheeks; the mascara added length to her lashes; the trace amount of eye shadow brought out the blue in her irises; and the lipstick on her mouth completed the images of perfection that her mother had strived so hard to achieve.

    Narcissa saw the older woman fluff and pick invisible pieces of lint off of the delicate sheets of tulle that made up her veil. As always, her mother was determined to make everything looked perfect, and it did. The roses that Narcissa would carry still looked as fresh and colorful as they had on the bush. Her dress was as white as snow and hugged the exact right spots on her body, deemphasizing her flaws, or so she had been told.

    Still, nothing felt right. The intricately carved, goblin wrought platinum ring with a three carat diamond seemed to weigh down her arm and felt unwieldy. The dress that was tailored and designed especially for her felt uncomfortable. The lace sewn on to the bodice made her itch as did the layers of crinoline that made her skirt so full. Her hair was pulled back so tightly that it made her want to scream. As her mother placed the veil on her head, the combs dug in so deep that she felt that they must be drawing blood.

    Naricissa felt her mother fuss with the veil one last time before handing her the bouquet. Suddenly, her father took her by the arm and steered her down the aisle. Hundreds of people stared as she walked slowly to the tune of an organ playing in the background.

    Then, she saw the thing that seemed the most imperfect, the groom. This was the man that she had not chosen herself and who would take her as his wife. He was also the man who would bring her out to show off to his friends, but would leave her alone in an ancient manor house the rest of the time. Most importantly, he was the man who would forever crush her dreams of independence.

    As Narcissa drew closer and closer to the altar, her heart began to pound in her chest. She felt as though she could barely breathe. More than anything, she wanted to run, but she couldn’t. Instead, she progressed closer and closer to her fate, for that was her duty as a daughter and member of an esteemed family.

    Later on, she would not even remember hearing the vows or saying, “I do.” All that she would remember was the solitary tear she felt run down her face as her new husband, Lucius Malfoy, kissed her. A tear that smudged her mascara and ruined her perfect make-up.

    Name: no_day_but_today
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: An Unstoppable Force
    Drabble you’re responding to: Forsaken by BloodRayne
    Why? I just loved the drabble
    Warnings: Chracter Death
    Words: 493

    This is taken from the line in the drabble about Fred becoming a shell after George died.

    Fred Weasley sat on an old, wooden crate that formerly contained supplies used to make Skiving Snack-Boxes. He breathed in the musty air of the storeroom. The room around him was incredibly dusty, but he couldn’t move, or maybe it was just that he lacked the will to do so. So, there he sat amongst joke paraphernalia.

    It was their empire, a world that he and George had built up together that only the two of them really appreciated. Only his twin knew what the store had meant to them and all of the work involved in it. Only the other incomparable redhead understood the meaning of a bunch of trick wands that turning into rubber fish and miniature puffiskins in pink and purple. It was only George that understood him completely and knew all of his thought and dreams without ever asking.

    George had always been there for him. Together they were an unstoppable force, or so he thought until…

    No, don’t think about that, Fred thought to himself. Don’t think about that day.

    It had all happened in an instant. Fred tried to block the memories and despite his screams to try and stop them from returning, they always flooded back.

    It was the battle, the final fight between the forces of You-Know-Who and their own. Fred had been fighting and large Death Eater and George was right next to him clashing with another hooded figure. Somehow during their respective duels, they had become separated. Suddenly, Fred had heard his brother's voice ring out, “Fred, watch out!” In that instant, Fred had turned around and managed to duck a killing curse at the last second and the green light hit his opponent instead.

    Relieved, he had turned around, determined to help his brother fight. But, he couldn’t see him. He started running. He needed to help George. He needed to find him. As he sprinted, he tripped over a body. He looked back saw a face so much like his own looking back at him. There wasn’t that same twinkle in George's eyes that there always was. They were frozen in fear.

    Fred had never forgiven himself and he doubted that he ever would. In the second it took him to warn Fred about the attack, George had been caught off guard. A single sentence pervaded Fred's every though, It’s my fault.

    Determined not to think about it, Fred looked at his watch. The store had closed hours ago. Beth, the girl who worked there, didn’t have the keys, so the doors would still be unlocked. He forced himself up and went to the front. He couldn’t look at the front with all of their inventions though, he couldn’t let himself. He quickly locked the door and flipped over the sign so that it said closed.

    Then, he turned around, went to the back room again, and sat on the same crate. There was simply nowhere else for him to go.

    Mithril Says: 10 points to Ravenclaw!

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